


The Duel

by piratequeengin



Category: Age of Sail - Fandom, Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Age of Sail, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:10:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratequeengin/pseuds/piratequeengin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Horatio were to be honest, he hadn’t realized quite how close he and Archie had become until Simpson’s reappearance. The gnawing sense of unhappiness that had been with him all his life took on a whole new meaning now that he knew what it was to have a friend – and to lose him.</p>
<p>The Duel from Horatio's perspective and with a few extra fluffy scenes thrown in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Duel

He had barely left the firm, steady ground of Great Britannia five minutes when Horatio Hornblower began to feel quite seriously ill. It was the way the corvette moved – the slow rolling way it had as it cut through the waves that caused Horatio’s stomach to feel so unsettled. This feeling was not helped an iota by the fact that it was raining. Horatio could feel the icy little rivulets of water make its insidious way down his neck despite pea coat and he wondered miserably by what sinister design he had come to find himself there.  
He also couldn’t help feeling slightly ridiculous, just sitting there while the two fishmonger’s wives rowed away. He imagined they’d be nudging each other later on, ridiculing him - ridiculing this silly, stupid young officer who was so green merely being on a corvette was enough to make him sea-sick – and he could hardly blame them. Horatio would be first to say he must’ve made a very sorry sight indeed.  
Up ahead he could see Justinian looming closer – the ship that was to be his new home for goodness knows how long. It didn’t look too bad as far as ships went, but Horatio admittedly knew very little of these things and the rain did much to obscure the view. He could see a figure on deck – another officer, presumably there to bring him on board.  
“Corvette ahoy!”  
“Aye aye!”  
Now that they were right by the ship Horatio found that his sea-sickness had worsened somewhat – it was the apprehension that did it. The absolute fear of what life onboard Justinian might entail and in his mind he berated himself for his cowardice.  
“Jump! You’ll be alright.”  
Horatio did as he was told – and almost lost his footing in the process. He was just well enough to feel his sickly-face redden with shame before the feeling of sea-sickness came over again and he forced himself to stop thinking and to climb the side of the ship as best he could – a hilariously undignified sight if ever there was one.  
Waiting for him up on deck was a boy, a handsome healthy-looking boy who couldn’t have been any older than Horatio himself.  
“Welcome to purgatory!” he had said, grinning widely from ear-to-ear. In his misery Horatio had despised him instantly for his insufferable good-cheer and hadn’t replied at all.

* * *

As a child Horatio couldn’t remember having ever had a friend. He’d always been a quiet, studious boy – far too serious for his own good and consequently he’d found it terribly difficult mixing with peers. If memory served him well, he had tried upon a few occasions to be friendly – but all his well-intentioned overtures had ended in disaster and in the end he’d resigned himself to a childhood of isolation. It hadn’t been so bad. He had his books, his games. These were enough.  
In this respect Horatio resembled Dr. Hornblower greatly – they were both solitary men. In some dark recess of his mind Horatio knew his father loved him a great deal, but he never consciously thought about it and evening meals with his father were conducted mostly in comfortable silence with little to no mentions of private sentiments. It wasn’t that they didn’t have anything to say to one another, more that they didn’t feel the need to trouble one another with unnecessary prattle and Horatio had liked it that way. Silence was something he’d grown accustomed to.  
Imagine then, his shock at being led below deck with this Midshipman chattering like a monkey all the way. Not that the sights and sounds of the ratings and their doxies wouldn’t have shocked him anyway. He’d not expected to see any women on board – had some notion that sailors believed women on ships to be bad luck, and yet here they were – an entire plethora of them in various states of undress and various states of fornication. Horatio averted his eyes as best he could but to no avail. In the meantime he tried not to stumble over any pigs or other beasts.  
“There goes his majesty’s latest bad-bargain.”  
“Belay that Styles! Unless you want to find yourself at the gratings.”  
Horatio had felt a fleeting flood of gratitude towards the boy when he’d stood up for him, only to have it very quickly tempered by resentment and agitation. He was an officer now. He should’ve told that seaman what for and he shouldn’t have needed another boy to defend him – a boy who was still by all accounts, chattering away just as incessantly as ever.  
“You’ve heard the latest rumours of course? That Louis was captured just before Christmas – what do you think they’ll do with him? You can’t kill a king.”  
Horatio had been about to tell him that Britain had done just that in 1649 when Cromwell had Charles I executed, but didn’t quite trust himself to speak. He feared his breakfast might make a re-appearance and that was hardly the way to start one’s career in the navy.

* * *

“I can’t believe it. Sea-sick at Spithead!”  
Despite all his best efforts his breakfast had made a re-appearance – in the Midshipmen’s berth no less, to the amusement of his new mess-mates. He suspected “sea-sick at Spithead” was going to be his distinguishing trait for the next few months. It wasn’t the last time he’d be sick either, for when the grinning midshipman from before had finally thought to introduce himself properly (“Kennedy sir, Midshipman Archie Kennedy”) Horatio had suddenly found the need to be violently sick all over Midshipman Archie Kennedy’s shoes. Needless to say, Mr. Kennedy was none too impressed – but Horatio begrudgingly admired the way the boy had continued grinning, in spite of his obvious irritation.  
“No need to worry Mr. Hornblower – it’s just sick. Since joining the navy I’ve had much worse things sully my shoes.”  
And that had been that.

* * *

Though his initial impressions of Mr. Kennedy hadn’t been very high, over the next few days Horatio found himself becoming increasingly drawn to the boy’s company. Once he’d learnt how to get over his sea-sickness and general misery he’d come to find Mr. Kennedy’s exuberant talk really quite amusing, though he himself had still remained rather unsure as to how to proceed. He didn’t know whether Mr. Kennedy expected him to talk constantly in that manner as well, or whether he was expected to talk at all – maybe all Mr. Kennedy wanted was a silent audience to inflict his wit upon. Deciding that the latter was probably the case, Horatio had remained mostly silent throughout his conversations with Archie, save to reply to direct questions. Apparently this hadn’t been right either, because eventually the boy had turned his cornflower-blue eyes on him with no small degree of suspicion.  
“You’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?”  
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be – my father had never had much use for conversation.”  
“And your mother?”  
“She died when I was four. Consumption.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“It’s quite alright. It was a long time ago.”  
They had quickly moved on to other subjects and Horatio had made an extra effort to be more conversational. Throughout it all Horatio became aware that he’d come to have quite a high regard for Mr. Kennedy – a regard that was just a little bit tinged with envy. Mr. Kennedy was worldly in a way that Horatio was not. He knew so much more about life on a ship than Horatio could ever hope to learn from his books, and he knew so much more about women. Women terrified Horatio – and the women who frequented ports and ships terrified him the most. Yet Archie Kennedy seemed to be at ease in their company, flirting charmingly all the way without ever once giving a hint of discomfort. Horatio could only ever standby awkwardly and hope that his new friend would save him, which he always did without fail.  
“Alright are you, Horatio?” he’d call out, to which Horatio would reply rather unconvincingly:  
“Tolerably well, thank you Mr. Kennedy.”  
Somehow despite all Horatio’s attempts at being a good sport Archie always knew when it was time to make good their leave, and he always did so without causing any offense – something Horatio was sure he couldn’t have done with his abrupt manner and tendency towards impatience.  
“You’ll have to excuse us Miss, my friend here is feeling rather unwell and we’d best be heading back to our ship.”  
There would always be an uproar then: entreaties for Archie Kennedy to stay for just a little bit longer – they’d look after Mr. Kennedy’s friend too, if he wanted, and they’d make a positively grand evening of it. The thought of being looked after by any of Archie’s lady-acquaintances would make Horatio balk and ever-charming as always Archie would gently but firmly put an end to their shenanigans and rescue Horatio from a potentially embarrassing situation.  
Later in the evenings when it was just the two of them, Archie would gently tease him for his lack of experience with women – but always kindly and always within limits. That sort of thing was quite a sensitive topic in a young man’s life after all, and Archie seemed instinctively to know when friendly teasing risked becoming unkind.  
This did not stop him from asking some very impertinent questions indeed.  
“Have you really never kissed a girl, Horatio?”  
“Ar-chie…”  
“What?”  
“I’m supposed to be teaching you geometry, not divulging sordid stories.”  
That had made Archie laugh.  
“I don’t imagine you’ve done anything remotely sordid in your life!”  
This comment had rankled Horatio a bit, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.  
“Archie…”  
“Yes, Horatio?”  
“Have you…been with very many girls?”  
That had made Archie laugh even more, and he grinned with no little amount of smugness as he tapped the side of his nose.  
“Ah-ah! That would be telling, and a gentleman doesn’t tell. Besides, I hardly feel the need to divulge any of my sordid stories when you won’t even answer my question.”  
Horatio supposed that this was certainly true, so he muttered something unintelligible about not having had many an opportunity to kiss girls back in Kent, by which time Archie had already begun to take pity on him and said, “It’s alright you know H’ratio, I was just teasing.”  
“You make it seem so easy.”  
“What?”  
“Being with girls.”  
“Well, it’s not very difficult Horatio – much easier than geometry. I could help you, if you liked.”  
Horatio was about to disagree on the comparative difficulties between geometry and speaking with women when he thought better of it and merely said;  
“I wouldn’t trouble yourself Archie, I’m quite the hopeless case.”  
“Well I don’t believe you sir, so there. Tomorrow we’ll begin your worldly education and I’ll be damned if this ship ever sets sail before you’ve received your first kiss.”  
Unfortunately, that was the day Jack Simpson returned to Justinian and Horatio’s worldly education took quite a different turn altogether.

* * *

Horatio was no stranger to bullies. It was only to be expected considering his rather intellectual inclinations, but never in his life had he ever been bullied so viciously and so single-mindedly as by Jack Simpson on board the Justinian. Of course, Horatio was not the only one to suffer under Jack Simpson’s hands. Archie had suffered too.  
The change in his friend’s comportment was instantly noticeable, even for someone like Horatio who couldn’t claim to be particularly adept at reading people. Archie was afraid. Brave Archie, brash Archie, gregarious Archie – the Archie that Horatio had looked to for guidance in everything concerning life at sea – that Archie was gone and all that was left in his place was a silent stuttering mouse of a boy. If Horatio were to be honest, he hadn’t realized quite how close he and Archie had become until Simpson’s reappearance. With Simpson there Archie seemed to retire into himself, and though he was just as kind to Horatio as he ever had been the two boys no longer spent time alone together – joking and sharing secrets like they used to. It was like sharing a berth with an entirely different person, and Horatio knew truly then what it meant to be lonely. The gnawing sense of unhappiness that had been with him all his life took on a whole new meaning now that he knew what it was to have a friend – and to lose him.  
And then there were the fits. Archie had never told him about those, though Horatio supposed that was only natural. If he’d suffered from fits he was quite sure he wouldn’t want to tell anyone either – but the revelation wounded him all the same. Not being prone towards sharing confidences, he’d still told Archie far more than he’d ever told anyone about his own concerns and weaknesses and he’d thought that Archie had been just as candid with him too. Apparently this was not so.  
“What ails him?” he’d asked Clayton, and the older man had replied with a knowing glance in Simpson’s direction: “What ails us all.” That was when he knew he would have to put a stop to Simpson – one way or another.  
In his more dishonourable moments Horatio had contemplated suicide – but changed his mind when he realized it would’ve meant leaving Archie to the mercy of Jack Simpson alone. Somehow he’d have to find another way to put an end to Simpson’s reign of terror, and in the meantime he’d simply learn to grin and bear it the way the rest of them did.  
His opportunity came in the form of a game of whist. He’d hardly dared believed it at the time – it seemed too easy, and yet at the same time he could barely keep his hands still he was shaking so much from the fear.  
“That was an insulting remark Mr. Simpson, and for that I shall have to demand satisfaction.”  
Of course, if he’d known just how his duel with Simpson would turn out he’d have never insisted on the bloody thing, but at the time it had seemed like the only way to free Justinian from Simpson’s clutches. Archie hadn’t been best pleased when he’d told them.  
“A duel? Are you mad?”  
“Tomorrow sees an end to it Archie. One way or another I shall be rid of him. I have an even chance.”  
“An even chance? Simpson’s reckoned one of the best shots in the navy – he’ll kill you certain-sure!”  
But Horatio had been an immovable force that day. He knew if he allowed Archie or Clayton’s entreaties to affect him he’d have condemned them all to life under Simpson’s tyranny indefinitely. Still. If anyone could’ve talked him out of it, it would’ve been Archie.  
The night before the duel was set to take place found Horatio alone on watch. It took every ounce of concentration Hornblower possessed to avoid thinking about the next day – about Simpson and the duel and the very real possibility that he might die.  
He did it quite successfully too – so concentrated was he on not thinking about his impending duel that he didn’t even hear the nervous patter of Archie’s footsteps coming up behind him.  
“Horatio…”  
“Oh – hullo Archie.”  
“You’re really going to do it then? This duel?”  
“Tomorrow at noon, yes. I meant what I said Archie, he has to be stopped.”  
“You could die.”  
Horatio knew what Archie had really meant was ‘You will die’, but he feigned ignorance all the same.  
“Simpson could die.”  
Whatever he had expected Archie to say next, he hadn’t expected it to be said with such anguish.  
“Oh you great bloody fool.”  
“Archie…”  
“Of all the stupid ways to die –!”  
“We are in His Majesty’s navy Archie, I suspect dying is an occupational hazard.”  
“But not like this! If you bloody well die tomorrow I hope you know that I shan’t forgive you.”  
“I’m sorry Archie.” And truly he was too. He couldn’t explain why the thought of having Archie angry at him bothered him so, but it did.  
At this Archie seemed to relent a bit, and his voice was considerably more gentle when he repeated, “You great bloody fool.” What Horatio hadn’t expected at all was the kiss he felt placed rather clumsily on his right cheek.  
“What on earth was that for?” spluttered Horatio indignantly. The truth was he was blushing right to his roots and he couldn’t make head or tail of what his friend had just done. Archie laughed uproariously as he made his way back to the Midshipmen’s berth.  
“I did say I’d get you your first kiss, didn’t I? Well I don’t doubt that it wasn’t as good as a maiden’s would’ve been, but seeing as you’re so determined to get yourself killed tomorrow it’ll have to do,” Archie stopped for a moment all laughter gone, “take care of yourself H’ratio. I mean it.”  
And with that he was gone, his kiss still burning on Horatio’s cheek despite the winter breeze.  
Through his confusion, all Horatio could think of was that he was quite glad it’d been Archie who’d kissed him. Should he die tomorrow he’d much rather it’d have been Archie than some unknown tavern wench.  
With that last thought Horatio found that he was no longer very scared about facing Simpson after all.


End file.
